Cindy Mackenzie slayer of Lovecraftian Horror
by BIFF1
Summary: She may not have been blood but they were family, her mother had loved her more than everything and she loved her too, even knowing what she knew about her DNA it didn't matter. Her mother was too old for this, too old to spend her nights out there fighting whatever it was that was out in the inky night. Eventual MaDi
1. Candlewax and Ribbon

**Candle wax**** and Ribbon**

* * *

She sat on the concrete of the half finished basement across from her mother. The room was black save for the localised glow of the red candles stuck to the floor with wax.

A little ways away her father was leaning against the wall, she couldn't see his face but the nervous worry was falling off him in waves.

"I don't know if I can do this honey...you're not ready." Her mother whispered in the dark her arm reaching out for her daughter. Her arm was cut open and as she moved blood dripped down onto the lopsided star between them.

"No mom." Mac reached out and grabbed a hold of her mother's hand. She may not have been blood but they were family, her mother had loved her more than everything and she loved her too, even knowing what she knew about her DNA it didn't matter. Her mother was light up in the glow of the candles and she looked pale even in their golden light. Her mother was too old for this, too old to spend her nights out there fighting whatever it was that was out in the inky night, "I want to do this." She tells her and there's a conviction in her voice that she doesn't feel in the rest of her body. She refuses to let her mother go out there and get ripped to shreds to keep Neptune safe.

"Honey, I need to tell you something..."

"Nat-" She can hear her father push away from the wall.

"No Sam she needs to know..." Her mother turns back to her her big blue eyes so like her own but still not the same. They are wide and red rimmed and this is the moment of truth.

Her parents are going to tell her.

Mac holds on tighter to her mothers hand, "No mom, it's okay.. I know."

"You know?"

"Know what?"

"I know that we don't, "She chokes up a little bit but takes a deep breath and starts over, "I know we don't share DNA, I know about the Sinclair's and the lawsuit. It doesn't matter."

Her mother is crying and she can hear her father in the dark trying to keep it on lock-down.

"Oh baby how long have you..."

"A while. But that's not what's important. Mom I'm doing this. I want you to be safe, I _need_ you to be safe." Mac pulls the black ribbon from her mother's free hand and starts wrapping it around their clasp hands.

"Oh my baby." Her mother half sobs, her hand running along Mac's face the same way she would when she was sick. Mac can hear the pride in her voice and it swells something in her chest.

This isn't something she wants to do, she looks down as she wraps the ribbon around her mothers open wounds, this is something she needs to do.

Latin spills out of her mothers mouth and with the words the flames flicker, "Meam do vobis: Filia mea. Tueri turbare volentibus magni nocte quietem." The ribbon gets hot around her arm and it feels like something is pouring into her, "Meam do vobis: Filia mea. Tueri turbare volentibus magnir nocte quietem."

Her heart is beating faster than she's every felt it before, it's like it's trying to run away and maybe it is because this makes no sense to her logically. Nothing has made sense since she found her mother unconscious on their back porch. Bleeding and unconscious was not a look she liked on her mother.

The ribbon is burning and melting into her skin and she thinks she's going to be sick, that she's going to vomit right there all over the Elder sign. She clamps her mouth closed with her free hand because she can't imagine vomiting on a protective sign is going to end well.

"Sam?" her mother asks a silent question and she can hear her father move around the basement looking for something. She doesn't look away, can't look away as the ribbon slides off her mothers arm and wraps itself further up hers, all on it's own, it's passing to her, all this unquantified power is surging through her veins like too much caffeine.

The ribbon is all the way off her mother now and her mom leans forward and places a soft kiss on her forehead and with Latin words she can't quite hear starts to blow out the candles in a meaningful order. The last candle is extinguished and her father flicks the basement light on, a bright bare bulb and she can see that the ribbon is once again just a ribbon.

Everything in her body is lurching forward looking for an escape.

"Sam quick!" her mother yells and in a flash an empty ice cream bucket appears in front of her and she looses her breakfast lunch snack and dinner into the thing. Her mother's hand rubbing soft warm circles on her back, "It's okay baby," Her mother is kneeling next to her while she can see her father brushing away the sign emblazoned on the cement in fat side walk chalk, "I threw up to."

Her father kneels down next to her as well and pulls a stick of gum out of his pocket for her, "I'm so proud of you sweetie." He grabs the back of her head and kisses her forehead his thumb rubbing into her hair, "Get a good night sleep tonight, I want you to stay home tomorrow so we can practice."

"practice?"

"If my little girl is going to go out every night and fight those..._things_ I'm going to make sure you can handle your weapon." he kisses her again and stands leaving the smell of tobacco and salted sunflower seeds behind.

She wants to tell them that she can't, that she has a mid term review but somehow her mid term doesn't really seem all that important now.

* * *

_Practice_ consists of driving an hour and a half out of town, away from the coast into the countryside to Aunt Frankie's farm. A place she's been too all of three times in her life. Aunt Frankie is sweet but on edge and a little too gun happy for Mac's taste, but if she knows about the _things_ a lot of that makes perfect sense.

She's her mother's sister and she wonders as they sit around the kitchen table drinking tea and talking quietly about the state of things, if Frankie also fights monsters.

"You in the family business now short stack?" She asks with a good natured smile on her face and Mac's eyes are pulled to the dark coloured ribbon braided into her hair.

She nods and her father rubs her shoulder.

"Our little Cindy practically demanded it."

There is pride and worry in her fathers voice and she can barely look him in the eye.

"You want to start her on the range Sammy?" she asks and all she receives in response is a curt nod, "You know where to find everything, I'll be in the back field until 11 come back to the house for lunch, I'll have something whipped up for our little rabbit." She laughs warmly and leaves the room.

"So Aunt Frankie is...she..." Mac swallows a hot gulp of her tea and tries again, "She's like mom?"

"Yeah...come on Champ lets see how much work we have to do."

They walk to the range in silence, Mac is too busy trying to tie her hair up with the ribbon to be a very good conversationalist and her dad has never been a big words man. She feels his arm on her shoulder several times, steering her around particularly deep gopher holes. When she finally does look up she has to do a double take.

"Dad...this is a gun range..."

"Good eye." he's making fun of her a little and it lightens her lead stomach.

"Dad I can't..." everything in her is seizing up, her body feels heavy and a fear is shooting through her that is unreasonable. A gun means killing something, and she can't even eat a burger how the hell is she supposed to _end_ something.

Her father grabs a hold of her shoulders and turns her to look him dead in the eye, "I know this is hard Cindy. I know it is and it isn't going to get easier for you. It was never easy on your mother either but what you have to do, what she's done since before I knew her, it's _important_. It saves peoples lives." There is a fire in her fathers words and it is pushing away the fear in her, pushing it away from the core so it's only sitting on the edges of her, "These..._things _ they want to devour the world and everything in it."

Mac nods and stands looking at the targets on the other end of the field.

Her father stands next to her just a little behind her looking at the target as well.

"I need you to think about a gun sweetie, imagine it in your mind, something that you can wield, something that will take that thing out."

She closes her eyes and focuses on a gun, and what comes up in her mind is the orange and grey plastic monster from duck hunt. She could swear that she can feel the weight of it in her hand. The long barrel, the easy trigger, and the skill at which she would use it, she can feel the heat of the ribbon in her hair, the pulse of power.

"Is that from the Nintendo?" Her fathers voice breaks her concentration and she looks back at him and he nods to her hand and as she lifts it to her face she can't believe it but it's right there in her hand, in all it's orange and grey plastic glory.

"Uh yeah..." she can feel a heat in her cheeks and is more than a little embarrassed by her choice, "It was the first thing that came to mind...is it okay?"

There is certainly no denying magic now as much as she may want to, as much as she wanted the marks on her mothers arm to be from some unruly neighbourhood dog, for the ceremony last night to have been a coke and pixie sticks induced nightmare. There is absolutely no denying that she just materialized this gun out of fucking nothing.

"It's fine if it works." She can hear the smile in her fathers tone more than see him, "I at least know you know how to use this gun." he concedes and she feels a little better about herself.

She sets up her shot and imagining the little ducks squeezes the trigger.

There's a deafening crack and both Mac and her father stager back.

Mac looks down to the literal smoking gun in her hand, her body is humming and she pulls her head up to look at the target...it's gone.

there's a smoking crater.

"Christ."

A low whistle behind her brings her attention back to her father, "That's my girl. I don't think that'll be a problem... a little loud thou." He tells her with a smile a finger in his ear as if he can dig out the ringing.

A laugh bubbles out of her and she shakes out her hand somehow knowing that the gun will just disappear. She can feel the ribbon gain length she hadn't notice had gone when she did so, it's warmth resting further down her neck.

"Can you practice for a little bit, I'm going to go talk to Frankie." He smiled softly and it warmed her. Who knew that becoming a monster fighting magical girl would bring her closer to her family like this. She nods and watches him disappear around a old burnt out shed before she turns back to the range.

The gun comes quicker this time, she practices making it appear and disappear, a flick of her wrist and a sharp focused thought and bam it was there. She focuses on more precise shots, quieter, less flash and bang more practical.

She is after all a bit of perfectionist.

* * *

After a lunch of farm fresh vegetables, Mac is sitting in the back field with Aunt Frankie. Cross legged waiting for...something to happen.

Her father is back at the garage fixing something or other for Frankie before they leave this afternoon.

"You must have a lot of questions." Frankie breaks the soft comfortable silence and Mac is a little sad for it. It's not often that she gets to just sit in a field and enjoy nature. Normally she has to wait until family bonding torture vacation.

Mac nods and finds herself absently running her fingers over the black silk ribbon in her hair.

"If you stare too long into the abyss Cindy...sooner or later it stares right back." She says with a tired fear coating her words that makes Mac think that maybe Frankie can feel the abyss staring at her right now. Her Aunt isn't looking at her, looking out at the horizon at something that she can't see. Something almost shimmering at the end of the world.

A cold chill runs through her body and for a moment she can feel something unseen looking right at her. Right into her, where is has no right to.

"We stared into the abyss?" She asks voice quiet and quaking.

There's a small smirk that pulls across her Aunt's face, "And we pay for it every night, in blood."

Her Aunt stands and a small breeze tosses her braid into the air and the ribbon glows like black light, she reaches out her hand to her and Mac feels compelled to take it, "Welcome to the fight girlie." The smile is suddenly bright, "Lets see what you got in you." Mac jumps a little as her Aunt pulls her roughly to her feet.

Mac blinks and her Aunt is in a different outfit, dark black pants, knee high boots, a wife beater hugging her slight curves and a leather jacket. She looks like she should be in a comic book, fighting heroes with lazer sight not out here in the field staring down at her in a very intimidating fashion.

Frankie lifts a hand and between her index and thumb pulls the ribbon easily from her hair. The long black thing flows gently in the afternoon breeze and her eyes are drawn to the easy flow of it, like the thing is made of water or air or something not quite solid. With the flick of her wrist the oozing thing stands straight out, bright and she can feel the heat of it from her position several feet away. She could see the thing gain a razors edge.

Her aunt's arm makes a quick arch down towards her and Mac has to jump back in order to keep herself out of the blades way, it cuts right through the space she used to occupy with a murderous purpose.

"Frankie!" Her name rips from Mac's throat as the older woman advances on her and Mac keeps jumping back out of the way with all the grace of a wounded gazelle, "Aunt Frankie stop!"

A cruel smile pulls at her aunt's lips, "Make me Cindy." there is no warmth or comfort in the woman's tone any more, any family love has seemingly been tossed out the window and the empty look in her Aunt's eyes scares her to the core, almost more than the magical blade she keeps trying to slice through her personal space.

"Stop!" Mac yells and she pulls the ribbon from her hair with a forcefulness brought on by fear and desperation, "stop it!" She can feel the heat of the ribbon burning her, she flicks her wrist and the ribbon gets sharp and straight and blade like and she conjures up all the sword skills she knows...none...she jumps back again from the heat of her Aunt's weapon and this jump is graceful and she can feel the long blades of grass on her skin.

Looking down at herself quickly she sees her clothes shift and change.

_Holy shit an honest to god sailor moon transformation! God please don't let me get naked_

A black skirt ruffles into existence across her hips, just above her knee and she can feel more than see her Meat is Murder t-shirt shifting into something more form fitting.

Her Aunt doesn't pause in her attack for her to complete the transformation so Mac ends up running away from her through the field, blade in hand while a black knee length dress shifts onto her form. There are tears in her eyes as she runs with purpose away from the barn, away from her father and further into the field, hoping to god that this 'lesson' will all be over soon.

She takes a quick look back and her Aunt is approaching rapidly in a way that doesn't make sense for anything that has legs, it's a smooth almost flickering advance and Mac's chucks hit a rock in the field and she tumbles down into the long grass, her body splayed over the hard obstruction.

She can hear the slice of grass as she clamours over the obstruction. It's soft and a sudden fear echoes across her body at the idea that she's fallen over a dead animal.

She turns to look at the thing and a scream rips from her throat.

Frankie.

Aunt Francis is laying dead in her own field, eyes wide, a look of fear etched on her face, frozen in midst of a scream for the rest of eternity.

She reaches out tentatively and the body is ice cold. Whatever greeted them this morning like family is an intruder. They are all wrong and she can't stand that she didn't even notice.

She stands up on shaking legs the breeze pushing her hair around and the sea of uncut grass waves and not Frankie stops 'her' advance. A smile pulls across her face and it's too wide and too filled with sharp teeth.

"Ickle Cindy ready to play?" The _thing _sings in her aunts voice.

Mac's hand closes tighter around the blade and she can feel it cut into her, bite into her skin.

Her jaw set she steps over her Aunt and launches herself toward the creature.

"Go back to hell!" She yells and she can feel an odd power in the words and the blade in her hand heats up. The not-frankie rushes out to meet her and she manages to cross her blade in front of her just in time for the creature's to slam into it, skidding up the blade with a metallic scrape and spark as Mac pushes the blade away with a force she didn't know she was capable of. She slams her foot into the_ things_ side and sends her flying. Sprawling down into the too tall grass.

Mac jumps, her chucks slamming down hard on either side of the creatures middle and with a righteous outrage she screams out, it's a feral sound she didn't know she was capable of.

The not-Frankie squirms beneath her at the sound.

"Go to hell." She tells the_ thing_ her voice fierce and clear and resonating in the air around them sharp and clear and powerful and she plunges the blade down into the creature.

The blade slices the creature like butter and in a burst of energy the thing loses its form and explodes into a cloud of blood and gore that just hangs off her. Of course she'd end up with a realistic death, she's turned into sailor frakkin moon and she gets monsters that explode into gore rather than disappear into ash or just disappear.

She looks at her hands and there's blood and black gore all over them and she drops to the ground and looses her lunch, her stomach lurching and with burning throat she loses any trace of food she'd put in her because Christ she's a murderer.

She'll never be able to say she's a pacifist again, she's tainted, stained, as if she wasn't broken enough to begin with and the tears of exertion turn into proper tears because everything she's been working 19 years to become is completely undone.

A good fifteen minutes later her father finds her in the field, machine grease all over his hands and jeans and he drops to the ground and pulls her into his arms.

"I killed her..."

"Shhh angel it had to be done..." He's rocking her back and forth and she can feel her clothes shift back again but she feels gritty and dirty and she's sure she'll never be clean again.

Throat and eyes burning her voice is a hoarse mess, "I'm a murderer..."

"No. You are a hero Cindy." She can hear in his voice the love and determination, he sounds like he means it, it sounds like she's his hero but she feels like a monster. But maybe it takes a monster to kill a monster.

* * *

**A/N:** the latin means as according to a tiresome adventure with google translate is supposed to mean: to my daughter I give the power to slay those that would disturb the rest of the night. What it actually says I bet is gibberish or a dirty joke or something. I just really wanted a semi serious AU fic about magical girls. Next chapter should be a little more light hearted and will include Dick. Hope you liked the start. I've been emptying out my cellphone/computer/email of my stories so I hope you'll forgive me for not completing another chapter of _Commitment Buffers _ or _Electrify _ both of which are in the works I swear.


	2. Snickerdoodles

**Chapter two: Snickerdoodles**

* * *

She doesn't get a magical locket that'll tell her what to do, no talking pet, or fairy, all she gets is a beaten up and bloodstained copy of the Necronomicon and a tin of cookies.

They're not magical cookies or anything. Just home-made snickerdoodles, her favourite. Still warm from the oven when she and her father finally got back from the farm a place she can absolutely never go again.

Her mother had pointed to the counter where the book was and a tin of warm soft cookies and told her they were for her.

She'd swept them up on her way to the front door where she left without a word. Didn't even wait for her father to break the news about Aunt Frankie.

She's now sitting in her car in res parking crying and eating a really delicious cookie. She's been there for hours, the dark of the night closing in around her all inky and ominous and filled with creatures that want to devour the world.

Her body is ice cold with fear and her eyes burn from tears.

There's a knock on her window and she turns wide eyed at what's on the other side of the glass.

Dick.

Or at least a thing shaped like Dick Casablancas.

"What are you doing here?" She asks conjuring up the image and feel of the gun in her hand in case this isn't Dick.

"I'm leaving before she wakes up and thinks we're in a relationship, what are you doing?" he quirks an eyebrow and his eyes travel passed her to the open box of cookies. He walks around the car before she has a chance to respond and he's tapping on the passenger window.

She thinks long and hard about unlocking it. He could be not-Dick, just like the not-Frankie. God how was she ever supposed to tell. Frankie had been family and she had had no idea but she only ever saw Frankie like twice a year whereas she had the unfortunate luck to see Dick at least once a week for pretty much her whole life.

She unlocks the door and Dick climbs in putting the cookies on his lap.

"So you get dumped?" He asks picking a cookie out of the tin.

"My Aunt died." She tells him sharply. Like she'd be this wrecked over some boy...then again he'd seen her this wrecked over a boy before. She was positive that he had seen her sitting in her car outside of the cemetery just as wrecked.

But Cassidy was different, he had always been different, was always the exception to the rule, always.

He pops a snickerdoodle into his mouth and that is just not fair. Those cookies are all she gets for risking her life to keep everyone safe from those _things_. The least she could get is all of her god damn cookies. She snatches the tin away from him."How'd she die?" He asks twisting in the seat to look at her properly.

"An animal attack." She responds wondering why she had bothered to unlock her door at all.

He let's out a pathetic excuse for a low whistle, the cookie crumbs in his mouth hindering the act, "what kind?"

She sighs and puts her head against the steering wheel, "they don't know."

"Did you need anything?" He asks and the offer sounds so sincere that a flash of fear fills her until she notices that his eyes are glued to her lap where her shorts have ridden up.

It was Dick, really Dick not something with dead eyes and too large a mouth playing dress up. She never thought shed be thankful for Dick being a total perv before.

"I need lots of things Dick." She's surprised by how dark her tone is, she wants/needs a lot of things, for her Aunt to be alive, for the abyss to stop fucking staring at her, for magic and monsters to go back into the realm of fantasy where they belonged and leave her messed up reality alone, to stop feeling so cold and dead, to not be a killer...murderer.

There was really only one of those things that Dick could do for her and she wasn't even sure if she wanted him to.

She watches him swallow hard at her tone. It was kind of cute actually, the unflappable flapped. Plus who would ever believe him anyway.

"Kiss me."

"What?"

"Dick..." her voice is a dark seductive thing she didn't know it could be and he leans slowly toward her his eyes on her mouth, "kiss me or get the hell out of my ca-" she doesn't get to finish her threat his mouth crashes down onto hers his hand hot and large and heavy against her bare thigh.

She grabs onto his shirt pulling her into him, the other grabs onto his belt and the heat of him is just ridiculous. He pinches her leg and uses the gasp of pain to force his way into her mouth. He's not waiting for her to give him permission and she's glad of it because the idea of him getting kind of rough with her heats her up in a way that's unfamiliar and sort of amazing.

He's doing a very good job of heating her body, everything in her is just a too hot, too tight, thumping throbbing mess.

She will never again question what girls see in Dick Casablancas, because if nothing else he is a very good kisser.

The hand on her leg pulls her and she follows it easily across the car and into his lap. A primal thing takes over and she pushes down into his lap rubbing against him and a moan vibrates across his chest and into her mouth. His hands grip her hips tightly pain shoots across her body at the vice like grip but god does it feel good, _alive_.

His mouth is on her neck and he's grinding up into her and it becomes clear just how far Dick is willing to go to make her feel when a hand leaves her hip to pull down the zipper of her shorts.

"That's enough." She tells him firmly removing his hands from her and herself from his lap. He looks so put out, a chest heaving gorgeous mess. She grabs the tin of cookies and opens the lid, "here." She hands him another cookie, a reward for being a good boy and it pulls a smirk across his face, "now get out." She pushes him and is shocked that it might be considered playfully.

He gets out of the car and salutes her with the snickerdoodle before walking several spots over to his truck. She waits until he is safely driving away before she leaves the safety of her car...relative safety.

* * *

Parker is sitting up waiting and she feels kinda like a bitch for making her worry and she can see her eyes get wide by the state of her, she's sure her eyes are red and her lips swollen.

"You okay?" She asks unfolding herself from her position on her bed and moving to her.

"My aunt died." It's a surprisingly convenient excuse for her world falling apart.

"Oh my god Mac." The sympathy just pours out of Parker and her long arms are around her in an instant. It feels good and she let's herself settle into the embrace, her skin is still heated from Dick but Parker's concern makes her feel alive in a different kind of way. Parker has her hand in Mac's hair pushing her into her chest.

"I'm okay..."

She's not.

"It's okay that you're not Mac, you don't have to be made out of stone."

The sobs just push themselves out of her and get lost in Parker's pretty pink pyjama set and they sink down to the floor. Parker stays there with her folded around her protectively and she knows that this is something she needs to do, this fighting monsters bullshit, because as horrifying and insane as it is the possibility of a world without people like Parker and maybe even Dick just isn't going to work for her.

She's just so tired that she falls asleep on the floor with Parker.

* * *

She wakes up at night fall in her bed and she's confused as to how Parker had managed it, had she really been so out cold that she had been dragged across the room and lugged up into her bed without noticing.

The mystery gets a little less mysterious as she pushes herself out of bed and finds a note taped to her laptop.

_Sorry I missed the Cosmic Horror and Cookies party you had last night.  
Call me._

_Wallace_

Her bloodstained lovecraft was sitting next to the laptop in all is grimy horrific glory and the half eaten box of cookies was open on top, suspiciously low on cookies.

Her cell goes off and she seriously considers not answering it, to just let it go to voicemail and hide in her dorm.

It's her mother.

She has to answer it, she asked for this.

"Hi mom." She answers and pulls her legs up to her chest and tries her best to sound strong.

"Sweetheart." Her mothers voice is a soft wispy thing and she wonders for a moment if Parker called her, "did you want me to go with you tonight?" She asks and it makes her heart swell, she wants to say yes so badly, she wants her mommy to hold her hand and tell her everything will be all right. She wants her to take up her mantle, let her know she doesn't have to do this. But the wounds aren't even scars yet, just bright red ribbons up her mothers arm and she had seen the blood drip down onto her own skin and knew that she had to do this alone.

Just like her mother had done.

Just like Aunt Frankie had.

Just like Gran had.

"No, I'm okay."

"You're sure?"

"Yes." She puts all the force she can manage into the word, wants to make her mom believe that she can do this that she's ready for this. She's an adult, she lives away from home, she feeds herself, she works, she's had sex, she's killed before, she's got this, "I'll be fine."

"Okay sweetheart, I wrote some notes on the map for you...in the book."

"Oh." She pulls the book to her and flips the book open, on the inner cover, sprawled across the printed map of Arkham is a map of Neptune, hot spots noted in her mothers tidy writing.

Hearst and greek row in particular are marked, a note in the margins that frat parties are a magnet for the things. It could explain why her mother had been so worried about her going to Hearst.

"It's great mom, thanks."

"Anything you need sweets." She holds the book close and the ribbon still tied in her hair heats against her neck and maybe she got a little more than just baked goods for her trouble, she's getting generations of knowledge and love and dedication and she can feel it burning in blood that she supposedly doesn't share.

"I love you mom." She tells her and this time she doesn't have force the strength it's there on its own, "I'm sorry about Auntie Frankie." She whispers and she can hear her mothers breath hitch over the line.

"You call me if you need anything. Tonight it being your first night, stick close to campus okay?"

"All right." She looks over at the corkboard over Parker's desk, there's a Pi Sig flyer on it. As much as Parker hates the pi sig pigs for being total asshats it was hard to deny that they threw the best parties on campus, "I love you."

"I love you too."

She hangs up and tries to steal herself, she'll be fighting two types of monsters tonight and there was an odd comfort in that because she knew exactly how to handle frat boys at least.

* * *

She's sitting on the roof of the Omega Lamda house in what she's decided to call her Sailor Mac outfit watching the outskirts of the party. She's seen enough Buffy to know that the monster always lures the victim out into the dark of the night before it dines. She's kicking her high tops against the roof. The only thing about her outfit that doesn't seem to change which she's grateful for because if she had to fight monsters in heels she'd probably just let them destroy the world.

It's an immensely boring activity this night time vigilance bit. She jumps from the roof and lands lightly on her feet on the front lawn of the Omega house. Man she could have used that when she was failing gym. As she walks across the street towards the party her outfit just melts and shifts back into her jeans and t-shirt. Her hair stays in the high ribbon held pony tail. She climbs the stairs and pulls her id out of her pocket with a five dollar bill and takes her cup without talking to the boy at the door.

She can feel him looking after her and she blames the cheerleader high pony tail.

_One of these things is not like the others_ She hums to herself scanning the crowd of young 'adults' for that tell tail cold feeling her mother had written about.

_One of these _things_ does not belong_

She wonders if she should do some sort of bait thing. If she should just seem weak and malleable and easy and have them come to her, but the heat of the ribbon and the power it rushes through her veins kills that idea before it's even fully formed. She feels too powerful right now to play the victim and maybe that's why the frat boys' eyes are lingering on her a little longer than normal.

She walks through the party looking for the cold feeling and can feel the heat of their eyes and is just glad for the heat of them, they are real, they are alive, they are people and she's going to make sure they stay that way tonight.

A cold feeling rushes across her skin and she freezes eyes wide as she looks around the front hall trying to pin point the thing.

There.

Second floor landing.

Disappearing into a bedroom a girl who doesn't feel right.

"Frakk." She whispers harshly rushing up the stairs, jumping over the frat douchebag passed out on the stairs. She's happy to see that he already has a ridiculous drawn on moustache.

She slams through the door and freezes.

Dick.

Dick Casablancas, is of course currently undressing the not human _thing_.

"Get away from him, you bitch." She tells the thing and her voice is that dark powerful thing and it pulls Dick away from the _thing. _He stumbles back into the bed.

"Mac...I'm kind of busy." He looks conflicted and she's pretty sure it has to do with the almost sex they almost had in her car last night.

"Go back to _hell_ bitch." She tells the _thing_ and it seems to understand what's going on in an instant.

The not girl turns to face Mac, she pulls closed her shirt and smiles at her with a mouth that is too big for any face, "Natalie finally pass the torch? She was getting a little old."

It knows her mothers name and it sends ice through her body.

"Don't talk about my mother." she seethes, fists clenched tight. Is this the thing that attacked her mother and left her for dead? Did the abyss share some sort of hive mind, "Dick, leave the room." She tells him firmly without looking at him.

"Mac...don't take this the wrong way but last night...it wasn't..." She looks up at him and the words die in his throat, "You know I was thinking about getting a drink anyway. You want anything?"

"Beer would be nice." She tells him and the two girls watch him walk out of the room and close the door tightly behind him.

"So how do you want to do this?" She asks and the not girl puts a hand to her chest, where a heart would normally beat.

"Oh sweetheart am I your first?" The voice has that odd empty quality to it that not Frankie had.

"Second technically."

The _girls _arm reaches out lightening quick like a Stretch Armstrong nightmare and slams against her face, a slap worthy of any drama queen bee to ever breath. The weight of the hit slams Mac into the door and she can taste blood. She staggers trying to right herself the entire room feels off kilter.

"More like _last._"

She lines the _thing_ up with the low open window and the ribbon in her hair heats and her clothes shift into the Sailor Mac outfit.

The _girl_ is shifting too in the small pale body, the air is shimmering and shaking around _her_ like it's afraid and the vice like feeling wrapped around her insides leads her to believe that it just might be. She's afraid enough for the both of them, for everything in the world really and definitely scared enough for everyone on the other side of the door behind her.

She swallows her throat deadly dry and pushes roughly away from the door running towards the monster whose shifting into a black abyss of nothing, just too big smile, white and jagged and a black emptiness she's more than a little afraid she's going to just plummet right into but she pulls on the strength of the blood that runs through her body in spite of biology.

She slams right into the _thing,_ her shoulder into the blackness and she sends them both out the window into the brisk night air, plummeting towards the ground too god damn fast. She pushes away from the _thing_, it's grabbing at her with long black tendrils of nothing that burn across her skin, and melt the black sleeves of her dress.

_gun_

_heavy_

_quiet_

She can feel the weight of the gun in her hand, feel the smooth plastic, and in a fraction of a second the gun is in her hand.

Eyes focused on the middle of the beast, the core of the maddening black nothing and sends a bullet straight into it. The kick back knocks her up and away from the _thing_ slamming her into the side of the house, head slamming against siding and then dragged down painfully fast to the ground.

She doesn't land on her feet this time. She lands hard on her knees and a yelp of pain flies from her throat.

The thing is in bits all across the bright green grass, all black and red and awful.

The air smells of death, heavy with entropy and metallic and somehow wet. The night is filled with the muffled sounds of the party and the not so muffled sounds of her retching. As she loses all potential nutrients her clothes shift back into place, the sleeve of her t-shirt is ripped and she doesn't want to think too hard about the consequences of that.

She rubs at her eyes and mouth, tears of exertion running down her face and disappearing into the mess she's made of the well cared for lawn.

She considers just collapsing on the ground and waiting for death or sleep, she's not feeling very picky.

Pain shooting through her body she pulls herself up using the siding and goes to grab her phone. Maybe she can get her mom to pick her up because she honestly doesn't think she can walk all the way back to her dorm.

It's gone.

Of frakking course.

She looks up at the open window of Dick's bedroom and knows it's the only place it could be, she had it before she entered the room and she had left the room in her magical clothes, clothes without pockets.

Wiping the blood and vomit from her mouth she goes around the house, she throws another five dollar bill at the table and walks in to the house. Climbing the stairs is a new kind of hell, her knees burning with every bend but at least the passed out guy has moved so she doesn't have to hope over him.

She pushes the door open and Dick is sitting on his bed with a couple of beers.

"Oh." She's not sure why she's surprised to see him there.

He looks at her wide eyed, she must look like a disaster. Bloody and beat, eyes red from tears and her shirt ripped.

"You okay?" He asks holding out a sealed bottle of beer. He feels warm, his heat just filling the room, the cold feeling is gone, the vice grip released and even though she feels like absolute shit she's okay because she actually won.

She moves to the bed and lies down.

"You go out the window or something? You look like shit." He puts the beers down on the bedside table and lies down next to her.

"Just give me a minute..." She tells him, her eyes fluttering closed and her body moves to his on instinct, body head and breath and heartbeat and he smells like cedar and ocean and beer and real.

Real.

_Your welcome_

"Yeah...sure...a minute." His voice is heavy and washes over her and feels like a blanket.

His bed feels amazing, the blankets pulling her down into a safe warm place. She just wants to stay there. She turns her head away from him, watching the light of the bedside table flicker slightly against the wall. She does not want to see the look on his face.

"Can I stay tonight..."

"You look pretty done. I'm not really up for it if I have to do all the work." He tells her moving from the bed, the bed shifts without his added weight. She can hear the_ shlick_ sound of the window closing and the click of the lock on the door, she's asleep before she can come back with a remark.

* * *

**A/N:** Pretty excited and surprised that I managed to pop out another chapter for this story. I really like the idea of this, a magical girl having an absolutely unmagical time of it. Let me know what you think. If your waiting for the next chapters of Commitment Buffers I'm hoping to finish them up tomorrow night and post them. Get ready for some Logan/Dick friendship feels.


	3. Lovecraftian Hangover

**Lovecraftian Hangover**

* * *

She wakes up under the covers and has to think really hard about what the hell happened last night and immediately wishes she hadn't.

The nightmare abyss of nothing that girl had shifted into chills her to the bone. She can feel a little bit of madness chewing on the edges of her and wonders if maybe that is the reason her mother is so June Cleaver.

Being as abnormally normal in the rest of her life to make up for the madness of the hunt.

Around the 'hunt', if that's what you can really call getting into a supernatural bitch fight at a frat house, she can remember Dick.

She's in his bed.

Wrapped up in his covers and she's honestly a little surprised that his body isn't pressed up against hers.

She's not disappointed.

She's not.

She pulls the blankets away from her face, letting in the light and the view of the rest of the room. Dick is at the desk, she thinks he might actually be doing homework.

She pushes herself up and he turns to look at her. She actually feels not bad, a little battered but mostly healed and all right.

Mac opens her mouth, thanks on her tongue when Dick speaks.

"You're a blanket hog."

"What?"

"How can someone so small need so many blankets?" He asks closing what is definitely a textbook.

"I am_ not_ a blanket hog." The words are firm but Dick stands up and points down at the bed, where the edge of the blanket cuts through his side of the bed dangerously close to the fluffy cocoon of comfort she's apparently created.

"Next time you sleep with me, " he starts, getting in close, his hands on the bed, his breath on her skin, "you won't be doing any sleeping." He tells her the words hot puffs of breath against her mouth. He's so close she can barely stand it, he's all smell and hulking heat and she actually kind of _wants_ him.

It must be the insanity getting a little closer to the core of her because the ocean and cedar and wet smell of him is outstandingly appealing.

He stays there too close, lingering as if he's waiting for her to do something. Maybe there's something in her eyes that makes him think that's a possibility.

"I have to go home." She tells him and ducks under his arms, brushing against him, possibly on purpose, and starts looking for her shoes.

"They're by your phone." He tells her, "you should probably call Parker, she's called like eight times this morning. She woke me up." He tells her with a grumble and goes back to the desk.

She actively doesn't look at him and it feels like he's doing the same. She pauses her hand on the doorknob. She should thank him for letting her crash, for not tossing her out onto a beer soaked couch, for taking off_ only_ her shoes when more must have been at least a little tempting (god she hopes it was tempting), for the night before last, for wanting to do something to make her feel better.

"Don't try and fuck any strangers." She tells him instead because the idea of a nothing monster, of the physical abyss swallowing him whole, of leaving a shell behind shakes her to the core.

He looks up at her and they just look at each other for a long minute. Who could stop Dick from trying to get some strange? Madison never could and they had actually had some sort of relationship. She had nothing with Dick, a heavy make out session and a night when all they'd done is sleep. She had no hold over him but she had to ask him anyway.

She leaves before he can say anything to that effect.

* * *

Walk of shame.

She has nothing to be ashamed of but any girl leaving the pi sig house in the morning in last nights clothes was obviously pegged as such.

She focused on her cellphone instead of the looks she was getting as she wandered back to res.

Parker had only in fact called five times, the other phone calls were Veronica, Wallace and her mother.

She returned her mother's call first it seemed the most important since she was the only one who'd automatically jump to the conclusion of death.

_"sweetheart?"_

"Yeah mom, I'm fine."

_"You're sure? The first time can be a little rough."_

"I jumped out a window and shot the thing. I was a regular action star. I'm fine, just a little sore and a little tired."

_"I'm glad to hear that you're okay sweetheart...where are you?"_

"At the dorm." She lied, "I slept through your call, sorry."

_"Really...because I just got a call from Parker wanting to know if I knew where you'd go?"_

"Is that so..."

_"Honey, you're a big girl, you can tell me if you were at you're boyfriends."_

"I don't have a boyfriend mom."

_"Really? What happened to that Ron boy? He was so nice...good with animals"_

"Mom that was two boyfriends ago and his name was Bronson."

If Dick had had a different last name she would have just told her mother she'd crashed at the frat with him. But seeing as he doesn't and every time a story she's telling involves Dick, her fathers asks, _that Casablancas kid_ and her mother gets kind of pale she's perfectly happy to skim over those kinds of details.

_"You don't have to hide where you were from me sweetheart. I know your an adult."_

"I slept in my car. I was too tired to drive." She lies and her mother seems fine with that.

_"Okay you should give Parker a call."_

"I'm on my way to the dorm now." She sighs. She loves her mother, apparently more than her own life, but this conversation is getting tiring really quickly, "I gotta go. Love you."

_"Love you too sweets."_

She sits down on a bench in the quad, her body feels like lead. She had felt pretty great while still at the frat. Maybe it was the oceany forest smell or expensive blankets. She refused to believe it was his actual presence that had made her feel good.

She looks at her phone and does some time zone math before calling Veronica.

Of course Parker would call Veronica when she came back to the dorm to find only a note on the door that said.

_Out. Don't call. I'm fine -Mac_

The phone connects and Veronica's voice fills the air.

_"The prodigal friend returns!"_

"Like you can talk. Abandoning me in so-cal just because Columbia wanted themselves some of that sweet sweet Veronica Mars magic."

_"Hey I tried to get you to come to Columbia with me. They just don't realise how much they want the Mackster." _There's a hint of sadness in Veronica's voice. Veronica had indeed tried to get her to move to the east coast with her. She'd been accepted to Columbia and everything but they only offered a half scholarship and it just wasn't enough.

"Hey. I miss you." She told her firmly and everything got quiet on Veronica's end, like she's left a room or something to focus solely on this conversation.

_"I miss you too..."_

She's going to ask if she's alright and she's never been a very good liar and she's even worse when it comes to Veronica. She has to cut this off at the pass.

"They told me." She says quickly over Veronica's words.

_"They being..."_

"My parents."

_"They finally told you... What did you say?"_

The strange thing is she's been planing what she's going to say to them for years. Since the moment she found out, since the second she met Mrs. Sinclair and knew that she belonged with them instead...

But she didn't belong with them not really. Sure they had more in common with her than she had with her parents and Ryan, but she loved them and they didn't just love her because they had to. It wasn't an instinctive thing. It went beyond blood and dna and choice.

"I told them it didn't matter, because it doesn't."

_"That's great Mac." _

She waits for it. The awkward switch in topic that always happens, she's actually banking on it this time to avoid talking about all the stuff she really rather not talk about.  
_  
"So...how is everyone?"  
_  
By everyone she means Logan. The only one she doesn't still talk to and gives a crap about. She and Wallace talk so often that they had to get a family plan.

Piz transferred to Columbia with Veronica because Pitchfork had worked out really well. She talked to Parker on occasion, she figured primarily to keep tabs on her.

"He's fine. He's switched majors. He's doing a crazy double major, journalism and english."

_"He always was a good writer."_ Veronica's voice is always so wishy washy when it came to Logan. Like she didn't know if it was okay for her to care about him or not. Personally she thought it was okay. They had been friends since they were twelve it was hard not to care about someone you'd known basically you're whole life.

"Well I better get back to the dorm to Parker before she hires your dad to search for me."

_"Yeah we don't want that. No challenge."_

"Hey I resent that I could totally disappear." She pushes herself up from the bench and starts again towards the dorm she shares with Parker. She can't wait till next year when they'll have enough saved up to rent something off campus.

_"I'll talk to you later Mac-attack. You know you can call me any time right."_ Her voice gets soft and she knows this bit has everything to do with the no doubt panicked phone call she'd gotten from Parker last night.

"I know Veronica. Same. I'll talk to you later Miss. Mars."

She looks at her phone and tries to decide if she should call Wallace back, why bother she knows where he is.

* * *

She pulls her keys out of her pocket and actually manages to get the key all the way in before the door flies open to reveal Parker and Wallace.

"Out?! Really? Out?" Parker is pointing angrily at the message she'd left on the whiteboard for her.

"I see you called the calvary." She walks past the two of them and sits heavily on her bed, the bed is unmade and she feels a pang or two of guilt over the fact that Wallace had stayed the night worrying over her whereabouts.

"Where were you Mac? It's not like you to leave such a vague note." Wallace has his serious face on and the burn of disappointment is impossible to escape, "You look like you've been in a fight."

She looks down at herself and see's that there is blood on her jeans from her battered knees and she can feel the slight swelling in her face where the inhuman bitch slap had made contact.

She shrugs, "The note was vague because I wasn't sure when I was coming back or where I was going." She tells them honestly, Parker is moving behind Wallace and she's pretty sure she can see the first aid kit come out of the cabinet. It's like going home to her parents but at least they know she was out fighting evil and shit, what the hell can she tell Parker and Wallace?

Wallace leans down and puts his hand on her cheek and she flinches away, "and who exactly did you get in a fight with?"

She sighs and pushes Wallace's hand away, "Just some girl at the party."

"Party? What party? The pi sig party?" Parker asks sitting down next to her on the bed eyes wide with worry and confusion.

"Yes the pi sig party." She grumbles.

"You got into a fight at a pi sigma sigma bacchanalia...where did you sleep last night Mac?" Wallace asks standing to his full height over her. It feels like being interrogated by her father the first time she had fallen asleep at the Casablancas house and showed up at 3 in the morning. Funny how the answer was still with a Casablancas, and nothing carnal had happened either time.

"Sexual promiscuity is a perfectly normal reaction to death Wallace, it's none of our business where exactly Mac found comfort last night. You need to calm down." Parker is taking those slow breaths she takes when she's trying to stay calm.

"Me? You were the one who wanted to- You called me at- I-" Wallace throws his hands up in the air, "That's it I'm going to go hang out with the guys on the team. You guys are worse than V." He turns and goes to leave the room. His hand on the handle his body sags a little, "I'm glad you're okay." he tells the door.

"Thanks Wallace, we still on for studying later?"

"Course." He opens the door and disappears from the room.

Honestly a flash of fear goes through her now that Wallace isn't in sight. But she needs to calm down, he'll be fine, he's smart, years of being friends with Veronica Mars has made him wary and she counts it as a blessing.

"I would have gone to the party with you you know. You don't have to do everything alone." Parker tells her quietly, softly as if the very fabric of their friendship could be ripped by sound alone.

"I know...I didn't want you to see..." Mac looks up at Parker and crumbles a little bit.

"Dick better have been good to you. I will punch him right in the junk if he wasn't." Parker tells her firmly.

"I'm that transparent huh." Letting Parker believe that she had some weird hurt/comfort thing going on with Dick made way more sense than what was really going on. That she had jumped out of a second story window with a god damn monster and had been too beat from the fight to walk home.

Parker shrugs, "You and Dick have this weird chemistry...plus who else are you going to even _talk_ to at a pi sig party?"

"I don't want you to worry Parker. I'm fine," she sighs, "I'm going to be fine. I'm safe I promise."

"I'd feel better if you'd agree to go to the self defence classes with me..."

And there it is. Parker has been trying to get her to go to her self defence classes for months, this is her price.

She falls back onto the bed and looks up at her, "fine, I'll go."

Parker's smile is dazzling as she cracks a ice pack and hands it to her.

"It'll be great!"

"Yeah...great..."

* * *

**A/N:** What I thought would be the second chapter was getting rather long so I went with the natural break. Hope you liked dad!Wallace, I think he's my favourite Wallace of all. Look forward to some action next chapter and Logan! YAY


	4. Bloody Gibberish

**Bloody Gibberish**

* * *

She finds that she's constantly searching for that cold feeling as she walks the halls of Hearst. She knows that they can't all be as easy as last night's defenestration not that her knees would agree with the level of difficulty.

She's seen a lot of Buffy in her time approximately one hundred and forty four episodes to her credit. She may have missed a couple somewhere or other she had some semblance of a life before senior year after all. So either way she's pretty sure since the first one didn't kill her out right to prove to someone else that the threat was serious that she was the protagonist of this little horror story.

Which meant things were only going to escalate to some sort of boss battle season finale. God she hoped some idiot wasn't trying to resurrect Elder gods. What the hell was wrong with people.

Leave the evil in the can people!

She made it all the way to the library without that icy feeling washing over her. She figured she'd kill a few more and they'd seek her out as a threat and she wouldn't have to worry so much about everyone she couldn't see.

Like right now Dick could have his...hands...on another _Abyss bitch_, she could be shifting under him, twisting into an insanity inducing nothing. Could be swallowing him whole right fucking now.

She grabbed onto the nearest chair, everything felt like it was closing in on her, there definitely was not enough air in the room, her heart felt like it was beating so quickly it would explode.

"You okay there ghostworld?" A heavy hand was on her shoulder and she looked up to find Dick. Still warm and alive, hell the sun was shinning in the window behind him and lighting up his golden hair like a god damn angel.

It just wasn't fair, she was positive she looked nothing close to ethereal.

She swallows hard and the air rushes into her lungs.

"I'm fine." She tells him, straightening up, she brushes her hand across his and he takes it as a hint to remove his hand from her. She's not sure that's what it was, "What are you doing here? I didn't think you knew where the library even was." She responds trying desperately to regain some of the bite in her tone.

He just rolls his eyes, "You've seen the new librarian right?" He points over his shoulder to a pretty young thing all long legs and tight...everything. The woman is wearing her hair in a loose bun and has a cardigan and a pencil skirt. She is basically exactly what you'd find in a penthouse spread. Even she's a little interested in what's under that skirt, "The entire frat's been on rotation."

A strange new intellectual on campus. It screamed villain to her pop culture saturated mind.

"don't fuck her." The words come out of her mouth before she can stop them, and her hands are on him, tight little fists in his sweater.

She reeks of potential cultist.

She doesn't like it.

Dick's hands cover hers and slowly remove them from his person, he leans down to her as he moves them back to her side.

"Who should I fuck then... Mac?" He asks and his voice is dark and ocean deep, his eyes burning into her skin. That pause seemed a hell of a lot like he was offering.

He means her.

He must mean her.

She bites her lip her body tail-spinning back into that too close, not enough air panic. Her skin is too hot and tight and he smells really rather good. Oceany and foresty all at once, like he's all the best parts of nature.

A predatory smile is slowly spreading across his face and she opens her mouth to answer him.

"Mac?" It's Wallace and he breaks whatever is going on between Dick and herself and she's not sure if she's grateful or upset, "I got us a table over by the windows." He tells her and points towards the stairs, but his eyes are solidly on Dick.

Dick straightens his sweater and steps away from Mac, "Wallace."

"Dick." Wallace nods and it's obvious that he's waiting for Dick to leave.

Dick shrugs, "My shifts up anyway." He looks down at Mac and it's burning and so wonderfully human and instinct and alive, "Ghostworld." He turns slightly and leaves the library and she pushes her nails into her palms to keep from watching him go.

"Okay please tell me I'm crazy and did not just see you and Dick have a_ moment._"

"You're crazy." She tells him but it's obvious that he doesn't believe her and that's okay because she doesn't really believe it either.

There is most definitely something physical going on between Dick and her, a hot animalistic thing...or so the car make out session would lead her to believe but he had let her stay all night without trying anything.

Sure he had said the next time she stayed in his bed she wouldn't be doing any sleeping...and he had just basically invited her to fulfil his needs.

But since when was Dick a words guy?

Did he like her being dominant? Is that why he had been waiting so close to her and hadn't done anything?

The thought that Dick likes it that way is not without its appeal. Being in charge, having power over a Casablancas gives it a whole new level of appeal. A twisted one she wishes didn't exist, but's one of the least troublesome quirks Cassidy had left her with.

"Earth to MacKenzie?" Wallace's hand waves in front of her face and pulls her out of what was no doubt going to be very library inappropriate thoughts.

"Oh sorry Wallace." She mumbles a blush flashing across her skin and she sits down at the table he's saved for them.

She watches him sit heavily down across from her, "I feel I need to tell you something."

"Oh?" She asks pulling her laptop and textbooks out of her bag.

"Yeah, Mac I love you."

Her textbooks miss the table and she has to dive to save her laptop from the same crushing fate.

Wallace is sitting across from her muffling laughter with his hand.

"That's not funny Wallace."

He smiles brightly, "it is a little bit, you know I don't mean like that." He waves her assumption away.

That's just not fair okay? She's in a very weird place right now, she's still dead tired even after her nap and with all the crazy monsters and magic is real bullshit going on around her it's not ridiculous to jump to that kind of conclusion.

"I know that." She hisses out eyes narrowing at him before she bends down to pick up her textbooks.

"I'm telling you this so you know I'm just worried about you, not a controlling weirdo." He sighs and she looks up at him and softens.

"I know Wallace, there's just some things I have to do by myself."

"Like Dick?"

"Well I didn't think you'd want to really help with that." She smiles at the odd shade of green his face turns.

"It's just Parker..." She's not sure but she thinks he might be blushing, "she worries about you, and I worry about you and we just want to be there for you."

She wants to tell him why she's been weird, where she was last night, what she was doing. But she knows that will only add to the worry not lessen it.

She can't meet his eyes, "I know..." She puts her phone on the table next to her textbooks and laptop and spins it on it's battery so she doesn't have to look at him. Lying to Wallace was like kicking puppies and telling kindergartener's that Santa didn't exist. It just shouldn't be done. The topic needs to shift immediately, "Parker's making me go to her stupid self defence class tonight."

"Good." Wallace starts shifting through his textbooks looking for the right chapter, "and they aren't stupid. They help her stay safe."

There's a long moment of silence as she watches Wallace actively not look at her.

A smile spreads across her face, "So how long have you been in love with Parker?"

Wallace moves so quickly that his textbooks fall to the floor, "okay I deserved that."

* * *

So she thinks that Wallace and Parker would be kind of super adorable and on her way to the dorm she feels the need to gush about how awesome that would be.

She opens up her phone and looks at the contacts and sighs.

Veronica will care because it's Wallace but the weirdness of the Parker/Logan union taints it.

She obviously can't call Logan. She can't imagine the_ hey your ex who dumped you and you still may have feelings for is totally in love with your sort of friend_ conversation is going to go. Yeah...she doesn't want to open that can of worms.

There are a couple girls from her CS classes. There's only three of them majoring in CS this year so they formed some sort of pact. But she's not sure it covers friends getting together that they don't even know.

Ex-boyfriends she hasn't deleted yet.

_fuck buddy_

What the shit?

Out of shear curiosity she connects. She's honestly not sure when that contact was entered, it's been rather a while since she's used anything other than speed dial and Veronica used yo like to put contacts in her phone with ridiculous names. After all Cliff is in her phone as _McBeal_.

"Why hello, a booty call in the middle of the afternoon? You minx."

"Dick?"

"Obviously. You have other guys that are putting themselves into your phone as fuck buddy? Should I be jealous?"

She kind of wishes he would be in that immature part of her who still thinks it'd be hot to have two guys fight over her.

"Guys...no, but there is this girl in my tuesday morning lecture whose hands are just amazing."

She smiles as she can hear his breathing change and she just can't help herself she moans softly into the phone.

"_Fuck..._" He whispers, "damn it Mac I'm in the middle of an ethics class."

She can't help but laugh at the idea of Dick in an ethics class.

"What are you doing later?" He asks and she stops stalk still in the hallway because that sounds like he's asking her out.

Which can't be the case.

"Why?" She asks.

"Because I'm going to fuck you so hard you go blind." Dick bites back his voice this dark hard hot thing that causes warmth to pool in her gut that feels wrong and great all at once.

She swallows hard and tries to get her heartbeat back to normal.

"Sorry busy, I have to learn how to flip a mugger over my shoulder tonight." She hangs up before he can respond.

He said it.

He actually said it.

Cut through the playful weird flirting thing they had magically acquired and said in plan vulgar English that he wanted to have sex with her.

And she didn't say no.

She must be crazy or maybe that sexual promiscuity thing Parker was talking about was a little more on the nose than she thought.

She doesn't really want to think too hard about it, it's got to be some sort of animalistic primal thing. Dick is a surprisingly good potential dna donor, strong, good looking, physically he's an excellent specimen and she has more than enough smart genes to save any possible progeny from the special class.

Okay enough of that.

No more passing on genes talk, she wasn't going to die and if she was whatever wanted to kill her surely wouldn't have the decency to wait nine months for her to produce an heir.

Maybe she should freeze some eggs...

Stop it!

She slaps herself softly and turns into the correct hall for her dorm. She spent pretty much all day studying with Wallace for mid-terms she's not going to waste the hour of freedom she has before Parker's stupid self defence class.

She freezes in the hall.

That cold feeling wraps around her like a vice, clamping down on all the important bits of her. There's a not human _thing_ here somewhere.

"Parker." She whispers and breaks into a sprint towards her dorm door. She fumbles in her bag for her keys before she puts her foot to the door, the ribbon twisted in her hair heating and lending her strength.

The room is empty.

She sags against the door and thanks every god she can think of before she realises it means its somewhere else swallowing someone else.

She pushes away from the door and tries to feel out the feeling.

A life and death hot or cold.

The RA's room at the end of the hall feels like a walk in freezer.

She knocks with a heavy hand but doesn't wait for a reply. She pushes the door open and swallows down some bile.

The room is trashed and Susie the RA is on the floor unconscious, her clothes torn from a struggle. Susie's arm slashed open, blood pooling under it and it's smeared across the standard white walls, family pictures and James Dean poster.

Gibberish. Not quite anything with too many apostrophes, it's oddly familiar and it catches her breath because she certainly recognises one of those words.

_Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn_

Her eyes are pulled to the pitch black creature standing over Susie, mouth too wide too white too jagged and open.

Mac reaches up into her hair and pulls the ribbon out with surprising ease.

"Hey!" She wants to be wittier than that but she figures standing there in the doorway and snapping her wrist turning the ribbon into a razor sharp blade is probably dramatic enough. Her clothes are shifting around her, ruffling around her thighs and she takes a shaking breath before running at the thing the blade up and ready.

There is too much blood on the floor from Susie and her sneaker slides in the horrifying wet mess sending her down to the floor as the creature strikes out at her, ruffling her hair instead of slamming into her gut like intended.

She had always liked Susie.

The thing is surprisingly quick for a mass of maddening pitch and a Cheshire smile, because it's shifting down at her and she holds the blade up against the collapsing mass.

An inhuman, unearthly sound blasts out of the beast an unimaginable fingers on chalk board screech fills the room as the blade goes up through what would probably classify as arms.

There's a thud behind her as the heavy appendages hit the floor.

Mac scrambles away from the thing, black and red gore litter the room as the thing makes a last crawling effort towards Susie.

"No!" The word rips from Mac's dry throat a burning noise that stops the _thing _long enough for Mac to push away from the dresser and thrust the ribbon blade into what she hopes to god is the core of the monster.

The thing just melts onto the floor covering Susie's legs and most of the floor in a vaguely translucent black goo.

She wraps the ribbon around her wrist and her clothes shift make to normal and she pulls her cell phone out of a pocket.

She can't help but wonder as she calls the ambulance where exactly the contents of her pockets go when she's sailor mac. Eyes watering, stomach tight she tries to stop the bleeding until the paramedics and police department arrive.

* * *

**A/N: **I had hoped to get to the self defence class but it was feeling way too long. So look forward to some BAMF Mac and Logan. Happy thanksgiving!


	5. Self Defence

**Self Defence**

* * *

If she thought the trauma of finding Susie all mangled and half dead would get her out of self defence class she was apparently crazy.

Parker is even more gung ho to make sure that Mac knows everything a free Lillith house self defence class can teach her.

Parker is leading her to her car by the hand like she thinks Mac is just going to make a break for it...which wouldn't be all that hard...all she has to do is beat Parker around a corner and turn on her magical girl powers and disappear into the night.

"Oh stop struggling Mac, it's not like I'm taking you to church." Parker rolls her eyes and opens the car door, her hand slipping from hers and she finds she misses the contact.

She is being given the perfect opportunity to fuck off and leave her but she remembers with a painful clarity the fear that ran through her when she thought the abyss monster had decided to make a snack of sweet, funny, loving Parker and she gets in the car.

The longer she's with Parker, the longer she's safe...safer at least. But this means that Wallace and Logan and Dick are out there in the night completely unprotected and it chills her to the core, and what about her parents...can they defend themselves and Ryan from monsters now? That nothing bitch from last night had known her mothers name, did they know where they lived? What about Veronica? On the other side of the god damn country, was she better or worse off then the rest.

God she was going to go insane thinking about this. She rested her head on her arms on the dashboard and watches Parker navigate the short distance to the community centre.

Parker goes to open the door and Mac's arm shoots out to stop her.

"You know I love you right?" She asks eyes focused almost painfully on everything that is not Parker.

"You're not going through your 'sexy phase' are you?" Parker asks with a smile and it brings a laugh out of her that warms her body.

"No." She sighs and moves to get out of the car, "but if Dick asks I absolutely am."

Parker just shakes her head and grabs the gym bags from the back seat. Parker had to lend her a bag, since the last time she had needed one was eighth grade. She takes one of the bags from Parker and follows her into the community centre.

Mac has never been a fan of change rooms, she's sure it comes from getting boobs last and Madison Sinclair's judging eyes and gossipy mouth. This in mind she grabs an open stall and changes into her gym clothes, leftovers from a Veronica Mars double team stake out. There's a long mirror on the door and she catches glimpses of bruises on her leg from slamming into the floor of Susie's room and her knees look awful from the two story fall.

There the kind of thing she'd make blow job jokes about. Great she's about to spend an hour with the _Lillith House she-woman man haters club_ and she looks like she spent the whole week sucking some guy off.

With a heavy sigh she ties her hair with the ribbon and heads out into the gym. Its got the thick blue mats on the floor and there's a older asian lady talking to the scary dreadlock girl, yeah this is going to be oodles of fun.

The room is cool but its the cool of air conditioning and it settles into her skin but it doesn't sink into her bones and grab and clamp down on her insides. Her eyes sweep the room, she could easily get out of that high window with the help of the ribbon. And judging by the depth of the ledge she could take Parker's weight with her which is good because if shit goes down, if giant tentacles burst up through the shiny gym floor broads she is not leaving without Parker.

"You okay?" Parker asks adjusting the collar of Mac's shirt. A soft intimate friendly gesture she never thought she'd get used to but now settles her stomach and calms her breathing.

"Yeah...when does this start anyway?"

The older asian lady steps into the centre of the mats and her question is answered. She's tempted to make grand master jokes and talk like a badly dubbed movie but all the girls are looking at the woman with such attentive respect that she knows it won't go over well.

"You. You're new." The old lady points at her and her accent is pretty much non existent and she's positively disappointed.

"This is my room mate Mac." Parker tells her grabbing onto her arm protectively.

The dredlock chick puts a hand to her hip and her stance gets oddly violent, "your Veronica Mars' friend."

"Yeah, and?"

She's been getting that kind of response to her friendship with Veronica for years now and she's been giving the same response. A silent dare to make something of it.

These fascist feminists don't know just the kind of damage she can do, without the help of magic. She could make her disappear with a few select keystrokes.

The old woman looks back at the girl strictly before turning back to her.

"Come." She points at the mat in front of her and Mac can't help but look up at Parker.

Parker nods tentatively and let's go of her arm to allow her into the centre of the ring of girls. It feels like a high school fight. Not that she'd been in one before. Before recently the only fight she'd been in was in the seventh grade and Shelly had a glass jaw.

"Kick me here." The old woman lifts her leg to tap her left shin.

"Shouldn't you be wearing pads?" Mac asks and a snicker rolls through the group. It is obvious that she isn't supposed to be able to hit her and she might not, but if she does...

Mac shifts her stance pulls a tiny amount of power and slams her runner into the space the lady's shin had been.

She looks up at the woman and she's smiling, like she knows something, and the group is silent in a way that she's positive she's done the best of them.

"Again." The woman's voice is firm and Mac stands for a moment looking at her before she jumps out where the woman had been standing and sends her right leg backward out into the ladies shin.

The group is in awe, a strange silence had fallen over them and she is positive that none of them have ever managed to touch the old woman.

Mac turns to look at her, "are you okay?" She asks softly.

"Oh yes dear I'm fine." The woman moves and pats her on the shoulder coming in close, "but you might want to do some training with your hair down."

Her throat goes dry but before she has a chance to say anything she's moved away and clapped her hands for the girls attention.

"I want you all to start sparring, focus on your throws. Miss Cindy partner with Miss Parker she'll show you."

She cringes and if there's any doubt that she knows her mom its vanished. She walks back to Parker whose smiling ridiculously.

"What?" She asks harshly.

"Oh nothing Cindy." Parker smiles wider and shows Mac where to put her hands.

Mac leans in grips Parkers forearm and flips her.

"Don't call me Cindy." She almost spits looking down at Parker who is spread out on the mat below.

She holds her hands up for Mac to pull her to her feet, "alright alright."

She spends the next two hours alternating between throwing and being thrown and glaring at Parker whose smile from learning her name is taunting and apparently permanent.

* * *

"Are you sure you don't want to come with?" Parker asks for the third time. She's heading off with Lilth house to do some man hating or whatever the hell they do (sticking eggs up frat boys butts maybe) and she really isn't up for it.

"No, I'll be fine, Logan's going to pick me up, apparently Dick did something to his new computer." She sighs and while Parker's expression falters at the mention of Logan is ends in that ridiculous smile. Mac sighs, "what?"

"Cindy Casablancas...it's precious."

"Oh my _god_ you need to leave now." She throws a waded up gum wrapper at Parker and she takes off laughing.

She's sitting outside the community centre waiting for Logan's ridiculous yellow monster to appear. She's gotten three text messages.

One from _fuck buddy_ who she is immediately changing to Dick and one from Veronica.

Veronica's first, she puts the speaker on and sets her phone on the bench beside her. The night is dark and empty and the parking lot is dark and lonely and chilled, with spots of old golden street lights lighting up the last cars in the parking lot.

_So I heard from a mutual friend _(read: Wallace) _that you've got a little sumpthin sumpthin, going on Mac-Attack._

She slumps forward, elbows on knees. That is not going to be a fun conversation, she should have known better to think that Wallace would keep this little piece of news in the west coast. Christ Piz probably knows too. And she hadn't even really done anything yet.

yet?

_Is that why you switch topics so fast this morning? Because you didn't want to tell me about Dick?_

That is exactly why. A chill rips through her and she wraps her arms tighter around her sweat cooled body and hopes that Logan will hurry up.

_Mac. You're my bestie you can tell me stuff like this. It's fine if you want to get yourself a little Dick._

She's not sure if Dick is capitalised or not and honestly the cold breeze is a little distracting. She looks out at the ground and notices how very still the gum wrapper she'd thrown at Parker is.

"Fuck."

She looks up in time for a large inky black tentacle to slam her into the community centre wall by the chest. Her legs slamming into the back of the bench toppling it over. All the breath shoots out of her body and she can feel every piece of rough brick press into her back.

From the ground Veronica's voice continues.

_It's weird but he's good looking I guess and as long as he's nice to you and don't like get married or something I'm totally cool with it..._

She can't help but think about how very much that sure as fuck doesn't matter right now. She kicks out at the black shape that just seems to ooze out of the way, her fingers clawing into the appendage pushing into her chest, crushing her lungs.

She thinks about the box cutter at the bottom of the gym bag, about how it's blade would slice into the _thing_ and she closes her eyes tightly and imagines the weight of it in her hand, the shinning crisp almost invisible edge of the thing.

The blade is in her hand and she wraps her hand around it so tightly she's sure it will slice her hand apart.

_Call me in the morning or whenever Mac-attack_

On the word attack she slices down so violently into the _thing_ she thinks her shoulder will disjoint.

The creature pulls back away from her, and she drops to the ground behind the bench. She stands up on shaking legs and she pulls the ribbon from her hair and her sailor mac outfit, the skirt full and ruffeling across her thighs.

She takes a deep breath,

flicks her wrist to turn the ribbon into a blade and puts her sneaker on the edge of the bench and launches herself over it.

She can't help but be a little sad that no one can see her because she's fairly certain she looks all kinds of badass.

Dick's voice clicks over and creates and odd soundtrack to the puffs of breath and shifting night and monster fighting.

She sends the blade across the _thing_ and it oozes around the blade.

_Okay so I totally thought you were fucking with me about the mugger thing until I got to your dorm._

She looks at her phone laying on the ground next to the overturned bench. He'd gone to her dorm? To fuck her blind?

The _thing_ takes advantage of her fractured focus and it's 'arms' reach out and clamp around her lifting her off the ground.

_So does this actually mean that if you hadn't been dragged to this self defence class we'd be fucking right now?_

The tentacles burn and she can feel the dark fathomless tentacles burning away the magical outfit, she can't stop the scream of pain rip from her throat as the thing moves her up, her legs dangling uselessly above the ground, swinging and hitting nothing but air, it's moving her up towards it's bright white teeth, too wide and sharp and long, it's mouth dripping in anticipation of her shiny soul.

_Call me back or just show up that's cool too._

Tears trail down her face and the squeeze of the thing wrapped around her makes her drop the ribbon. The moment it leaves her grip everything just seems to dissolve, the skirt, the power.

She's going to die.

She's worst than going to die.

She'll be trapped forever in some nothing place, or hell or something older and hopeless and worse.

The last thing she's ever going to do is that stupid free self defence class, she could have been having what is rumoured to be very good sex and the last thing she's going to see are those god forsaken teeth, the last thing she's going to hear is her blood pounding in her ears and a god awful car horn.

God she was trying to die with dignity here.

She turns towards the noise and has never been happier to see that big yellow monster of a vehicle in her life.

Logan is laying on the horn and speeding towards them. The suv slams into the _thing_ and she drops to the ground.

Her knees slam into the asphalt and it sure as fuck hurts a lot more without her magical girl power backing her up. Mac reaches out blindly and grabs the ribbon, wraps it twice around her wrist and raises to her knees and pulling a ragged painful breath she thinks hard about the weight and slick feel of the Zapper, all two tone grey and she doesn't give a flying fuck if it's quiet.

Her hand gets heavy and with one hand on the e-terra she pulls herself up onto her feet and sends a _bullet_ into the staggering _thing_.

and then again

and again.

for good measure but mostly because she's pissed.

It's a blast of that black semi transparent goop and black and red gore across the wall and windows of the community centre.

The gun disappears in her hand, it's job well and truly done. She walks over to the overturned bench, picks up her phone and the gym bag and walks to the suv.

Logan unlocks the door and she slides in, tossing her bag to the back seat.

She rests her head against the dashboard and looks at Logan whose eyes are so wide she thinks they might just drop out due to gravity.

"Thanks for picking me up?" She offers and he turns to look at her.

"What. the. fuck."

She shrugs, "Oh, I fight monsters now. Do you want me to drive?" she asks because honestly he doesn't look like he should be operating heavy machinery. Logan turns the car around, and starts towards the grand.

She wonders how long he'll be in shock for. She hadn't really had time to be in shock, she'd been too busy trying to stop her mom from bleeding out, and then later too busy emptying her stomach.

"You want to pull over and vomit? I threw up."

"I...I..." He stops at a green light and looks at her again, "What. the. fuck."

"Yeah...I'll drive."

The moment Logan steps out of the car, he's on his knees emptying his stomach like it's his first kegger.

* * *

**A/N: **Man this one took a while because I was having trouble with the fight scene. Hope it turned out okay. Whew long one.


	6. Alive

**Alive**

* * *

**A/N: **Okay so this chapter is actually mature. In a sexy way. for like the first time ever so be kind and stuff. If you're not here for sexy time feel free to skip to the Logan/Mac friendship near the end.

* * *

"When I said to just stop by I meant the frat." a whisper in the dark wakes her from a precarious sleep. With wide eyes she goes to search the room, her mind pulling a gun into sharp focus, she doesn't have to search very far.

Dick is on the bed next to her, the mattress sinking under his familiar weight.

"You're about a year late for this room." he smiles and it's warm and his hand lands heavily on her hip, "but I think I can let it go." He pushes her hip down into the bed and raises up so he's above her.

"I'd be careful, I could flip you over now."

The smile on his face pulls to one side and she has a very good idea that he'd be absolutely for that idea.

His knee sinks into the bed between her legs and anticipation and heat pool in her, her breath hitching, her body rolling up into his.

She watches him bite down on his lip and it's far and away the hottest he's ever been. His body drops a little so there is barely three fingers worth of space between them and his body heat is just pouring over her. He slides her legs apart with his knee and rests his hips against her.

"You are wearing far too many clothes young lady." He tells her and she can't help but smile, she's in a t-shirt he'd left behind and her underwear.

"You're wearing way more clothes than I am." she tells him her hands on the hem of his t-shirt, sliding the cotton up to feel the hot tight skin of him, god he's like zero percent body fat.

She presses her fingers hard into him and drags them up his back causing his body arch into her fingers, pressing himself roughly into her.

A soft little moan escapes her mouth and she moves against him needing friction. She pulls the t-shirt off him and tosses it across the room.

"Much better." she tells him with a smirk.

He looks down at her, a predatory smile spreading across his face, "You look hot in that." he means his t-shirt, he leans down to brush his lips against hers, "but it's always looked better on the floor." His mouth is finally on hers, hot and wet and rough and the press and movement speeds up her heart and makes her feel positively alive.

She wonders briefly how much more alive he can make her feel when his fingers run along her hip, tracing the line of her leg down and her breath hitches against his mouth.

She can feel that slightly odd thick feeling as he drags his fingers across her and can't help but bite down on him. He pulls away slightly and studies her for a moment like he thought the biting was a sign to stop. and he might have continued thinking that way if she hadn't pressed herself up into his fingers and made a frustrated noise in the back of her throat.

She can see him watching her and she wonders what the fuck he's waiting for until his fingers push her underwear aside and he presses against her roughly before they sink into her. That wonderful full feeling makes its way up into her chest and a moan rips from her throat, her mouth dropping open and her body pushes down on him.

She's sure that's what he was waiting for, the look on her face.

He's going too god damn slow, pumping his fingers into her at a leisurely pace and she's pressing her body down against his hand, bucking slightly in an attempt to go faster but he seems to be enjoying her a little too much.

The eager little noises she can't stop from escaping, the frustrated little rolls of her hips, her fingers wrapped around his wrist trying to make him move faster but nothing.

It's building up inside her, she can feel it like something inflating ready to burst but he's taking too long.

Or not doing enough,

Or something.

She just.

She needs something more.

"more." she begs her fingers pressing into his skin, biting into him in her desperation for just a little more, her body arching against him, her teeth clamp down on her lip.

A groan falls from Dick's mouth and he finally does something beyond the basic, his fingers twist in her and curl and press up or down or sideways or whatever against something and it's enough, it's more than enough, it feels like something is ripping in her in the best kind of way, something big and great and just once more.

"please, Dick." she whispers out and it causes another groan in Dick against her ear that certainly is helping things along because it's a beautiful hot little sound.

His fingers twist again, his hot wet mouth on the skin of her neck biting softly and she wants it harder, rougher, more raw, but speaking has become difficult so she claws down his exposed back in a way she's sure will get her point across. She wants it raw and hard and real. To be without a doubt completely alive.

His fingers press and his teeth bite down hard and

_Bam_

A loud moan rips from her, her body arches up violently against him and she's positive his fingers are going to come away impossibly slick.

The door bursts open and she comes crashing down from the euphoria way to god damn early, it's a plummeting feeling and Dick's fingers come out of her quickly, his hand slamming down into the bed beside her, he covers her with his body and turns to look at the door.

"Dude. _Fucking busy_."

From under Dick's arm she can see Logan standing in the door gun in his hand eyes wide, scared.

She sits up pushing Dick away from her, "Are you okay Logan?"

"I thought it was...I thought you were..." he does his best to gain his composure in front of Dick, "How did you even get in here Dick?"

"I still have my keycard dude. You said to keep in in case of emergencies."

"And this constitutes an emergency?" He asks and she looks between Logan, whose thankfully calmed down, to Dick whose looking at her with a smile on his face.

"Oh yeah."

"You know what, I don't want to know about this." Logan puts up his hands and Dick's eyes widen, possibly seeing the gun for the first time. Logan backs away but leaves the door wide open.

"Why did Logan have a gun?" He whispers to her and when she turns to look at him, he's licking his fingers and it tightens something in her gut.

She swallows hard and turns away from him, "I don't maybe because strange sounds were coming from a room that was supposed to just be harbouring an unconscious friend?" She gets out of the bed and grabs onto the night stand hoping to god that Dick doesn't notice the shake in her legs, she'll never hear the end of it, and goes to grab a pair of ripped up jeans from the gym bag across the room.

She can feel Dick watching her, he makes a frustrated noise in the back of his throat that seems to echo through the room when she zips up her jeans.

"You're not going to return the favour?" he groans getting up from the bed.

Her eyes drop to his shorts, where he is obviously straining for some release. And she does feel a little bad about it. She runs her tongue across her lips and looks back up at Dick, whose eyes are dark and burning.

"Maybe later." She tells him and goes to leave the room.

"Close the door then." he tells her and smirking she closes the door.

"Be careful you don't go blind." she tells him with a smile and he just rolls his eyes.

* * *

Logan is in the kitchen making coffee when she comes up to the other side of the counter.

"I'm sorry you...yeah..."

He looks up at her, "so did I miss something...cause this is making the kind of sense that doesn't."

She smiles softly at the buffyism.

"Does Dick know you fight demon's and shit? Am I the last to know?" He asks leaning to look at the closed door. He has a look on his face that tells her he knows exactly what's going on in there without Mac.

"No he doesn't know. You're the only one who knows. All he knows is that my aunt died and I'm taking it pretty hard."

"yeah I'm sure you are." there's a raise to his eyebrow that is all Echolls innuendo.

"What I have going on with Dick is a side effect of the monster thing. okay? can we just leave it?"

"Sure..." he hands her a mug of coffee and leads her to the couch, where an episode of x-files is on pause.

They sit down on the couch and start the show back up.

"So what, you fight monsters and then fuck Dick?"

"We haven't had actual sex yet."

"But you plan on it?"

She makes a non committal noise in the back of her throat, she turns to Logan, "I'm glad you know... about the monsters thing not about Dick...and you know thanks for saving my life and stuff."

He drops an arm around her shoulders and she settles back into him.

"Any time Buffy."

"I was going to go visit my mom today...did you want to come? It'll be nice having someone around that's just as confused and scared as me."

He nods in agreement and Dick appears from the bedroom, a little red in the face but looking satisfied.

"Hey." He points at Logan's arm, "Mine."

Mac rolls her eyes and when Dick sits down next to her and tries to put his arm around her she looks straight at him and with a steady hard voice says one word, "later." and he retreats into himself and settles in to watch the rest of the show with them, he does however steal her coffee. She doesn't have it in her to take it back. After all he was a good boy.

* * *

**A/N:** So look forward to next chapter being some Logan/Mac friendship and like actual plot movement and junk. So be kind cause i've never actually posted _sexy_ stuff before.


	7. interruptions

**Interruptions**

* * *

She decides to take a shower, her thighs feel sticky and her underwear isn't sitting right no matter how she shifts on the couch.

Plus she doesn't really want to go see her mother smelling of sex.

It just seems tacky and she certainly doesn't want her mother assuming that she's been _with_ Logan.

"Want company?" Dick asks leering at her. Her heartbeat quickens and she's oddly tempted by the offer.

"Next time." She smiles at him and makes her way back into Dicks old room. Enjoying the sound of him choking on her coffee.

Closing the door she tossed the t-shirt to the ground, taking a moment to see if it did really look best on the ground. The color contrasted beautifully against the flooring.

She stepped out of her jeans and started slowly unwrapping the ribbon from her wrist. Absorbed momentarily in the surprising depth of it, it shimmered slightly in the dim of the unlit room as she twisted it, letting the smooth material slide through her fingers. How old was this piece of cloth, why could it do what it did, where did it come from.

It drops to the floor to pool by her jeans, a puddle of silky darkness.

Her chest tightens at the loss of power.

There was a click behind her and her breath caught. She tried to feel out for a cold spot, for the tell-tale horrifying grip on her lungs but there was nothing.

"Fuck your hot."

Dick's voice, her body relaxed and she turned to him feeling exposed, stripped, powerless, why had Dick come in. Had he been hoping to sneak into her shower anyway? Had he just left something in the room and thought it'd be safe by now to come in.

"What do you want Dick?"

He's standing at the door, his hands pressed against the wood, just watching her.

"I don't really remember..." He smirked pushing away from the door and closing the distance between them like it was nothing.

"Dick..." He leaned down, his hands heavy and hot against her bare skin, his breath hot and sending shockwaves through her body.

"Say it again." His voice is deep and rough and he lowers his mouth to her neck, his arms wrapping around her, pulling her against him.

"Dick." She obliges and wonders what's so powerful about names in the Casablancas family, because she can remember the same tone in Cassidy's voice when she called him by his name instead of Beaver. She put her hands against his chest, disappointed in hitting cloth, "I said _later_ Dick."

"Who says this is about getting a..." He drops off and backs her up into the bed, his mouth on her skin, he pulls away to speak into her skin, "I just want to be inside you."

Well she can hardly fault him for that now can she...

She falls backward onto the bed pulling him down with her. He lands on her hard and it hurts a little bit but the feeling is bright and welcome. Any feeling is welcome after last nights near death.

"You okay?" He asks as his teeth graze against her skin, she's not sure if he means now or in general.

Because in general she is very fucked up and not at all okay and can't believe that her family has done this for years, decades, centuries? Without going totally batshit.

"Shut up and take your clothes off." is what she says instead.

The smile she receives for that is worth the sharp pain in her lungs. He stands from the bed and she can't help but slide backwards on the bed a little and pop up on her elbows watching him.

She's never known anyone whose been so completely confident in their form before. There was no urgency in the way he pulled his t-shirt over his head, no need to be quick and down and against her skin and in the dark.

Dick was all sunshine, bright ridiculous sunshine. Beautiful skin, smooth and tight and surprisingly lean, wide shoulders but the way his body was toned was all surfing and sex.

He seemed to love the audience, watching her watch him.

She watched his fingers slowly undo his belt.

"So how many people have told you how good-looking you are?" She asks surprised at how dark her voice is, it sounds like velvet and she's pretty pleased with it and god she wishes she could make it make that tone on purpose. She has a feeling she'd be able to away with a lot more if she could pull that out on a whim.

"I've lost count. I hear its my only redeeming quality." The smile on his face pulls to one side as he drops his shorts to the floor.

"Oh I don't know..." She smirks sitting up on the bed, her hands on his waist holding him still, "I can think of a few other qualities I like." She looks up at him through her lashes, wetting her lips and loving the visible anticipation and nerves rippling across Dick's body.

He's straining against his boxers as she runs a hand down him and looking up at him he's biting his lip watching her. There's a surprising thrill going through her, a power she's never really felt doing this with anyone else. Right now she could produce a switch blade from her cleavage and she's pretty sure that Dick would just let her do whatever the hell she wanted to him.

She slides him easily out of his boxers.

"Mac...you don't have to..." his voice shifts into a moan as her tongue runs up the length of him.

She looks up at him, her mouth less than an inch away from him, "What was that?" She asks her hot breath on him brings out a quiet little moan.

He shakes his head sending his sunbleached locks into his eyes, "You can do whatever you want."

She smirks up at him and wraps her mouth around him, her fingers curling into the band of his underwear, his hands in her hair pushing her head ever so slightly towards him. He's getting greedy and trying to restrain himself from pushing her all the way down. He's trying so hard to be a good boy.

Her fingers press into his hips, her nails biting into him and she pushes herself down around him until her nose touches his torso. He's hitting the back of her throat and it's not very comfortable but the noises he makes are totally worth it.

"fuck." the word is drawn out, long and mostly consisting of a moan. Its a noise she's pretty proud of. Mac swallows against him and his fingers twist painfully in her hair, he moans out her name.

Her first name.

She pulls away from him quickly, making a pop as she releases him.

"What?" He asks breathless.

"Don't call me that."

"What?"

"Don't call me Cindy." she tells him harshly.

"Fuck fine Mac, just, come on." he's almost begging, "I won't call you it again. I swear." He crosses his heart and it's really kind of adorable.

"okay." She takes a breath readying herself for the feel of him against the back of her throat. Her mouth hovers for a moment, the tip of him in her mouth but not touching, her hot breath on him makes him visibly shiver and it pulled her mouth into a smirk around him her lips finally making wet contact with him.

The door opened with a heavy-handed knock and she removed Dick from her mouth and leaned around him to peek at the door. Logan stood there a hand over his eyes and her cell phone out.

"It's your mom." He tells her.

"You have to be _fucking kidding_ me." Dick's voice is a frustrated mess of nerves and he steps away from her putting himself back into his underwear. She watches him walk into the bathroom and slam the door behind him.

Mac wraps herself up in the thin hotel blanket and moves to the door.

"Thanks Logan." She takes the cell from him and Logan leaves the room, closing the door behind him, keeping his eyes covered the entire time, "Hey mom..." she leans hard against the door, scanning the room for her clothes. It feels weird and gross talking to her mom half-naked.

_Sweetie, is everything okay? I called earlier but there was no answer..._

She was worried. If any mother in the history of mothers had a complete right to be out of her mind with worry about not having a call answered it was mother Mackenzie.

"Things were a little tougher yesterday, I had a double hitter, I was sleeping it off at Logan's."

_So everything is all right? I heard something strange happened on campus..._

The bloody writing and the near death of her RA. At least she assumes it was a near death, she hadn't exactly had time to follow-up on the state of Susie's health. She'd been too busy with Dick...god she was a terrible human being.

"I was going to stop by soon, to talk to you about that...do you have time today?"

_Course I do sweetheart, I always have time for you. I'll see you soon._

"Okay, I love you." She listened to her mother parrot the words back and ended the call. She almost trips over the stupid blanket on her way to her pants. She throws the blanket angrily across the room and throws on her clothes. Wrapping the ribbon around her hair she leans against the bathroom door.

She can hear Dick. Hear what he's doing.

"I'm sorry." she tells him through the door because honestly she is. She's all revved up with no place to go, "next time we'll fuck at the frat or something."

He laughs, a short hard sound, "Yeah sure."

He doesn't believe her and she doesn't really blame him, even if fucking him is her intention that doesn't really seem to matter all that much to the world.

She sighs heavily and joins Logan in the living room. He's smirking and she just knows he's going to make sexual innuendos and euphemisms all day. He hands her a piece of gum and she grumbles her thanks.

"Don't want you're mother smelling dick on your breath." He laughs leading her out of the suite. God she hopes that was capitalised.

* * *

**A/N: **Okay not so much with the Logan/Mac friendship thing that I was hopping for. I got a little sidetracked as you can tell. Expect forward plot movement in the next chapter as I am desperately avoiding starting my nanowrimo project.


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